deathsdoctor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deathsdoctor) wrote2011-05-01 06:28 pm
deathsdoctor) wrote2011-05-01 06:28 pm
006 [Written]
[Today seems to be the day for announcements like this. And this? He confirmed the morning of the experiment’s end. Written in a starkly elegant hand is this simple message:]
For those who knew him, Uchiha Itachi has been returned home.
[The message is anonymous and untraceable – though there are people out there who will recognise his handwriting. He doesn’t really want to reply – he’s too drained. He’s still striving for emotional equilibrium – rage and bloodlust and pain surging repeatedly and then ebbing away to leave him spent and hollow. His powers are a choppy sea – unstable – and he needs to find his center again.
Bil’s in the village. Untouchable. He’s read the Malnosso’s post a hundred times, and all the conversations that he could access… gleaned what could be gleaned, drawn new conclusions, confirmed and discarded old ones, and made unsettling new projections. And these means for uncertain ends? He doesn’t care if he had the purest of intentions (he did not) or the best of reasons – this is not something to be forgiven. Or forgotten.
… this threatens to make a smoker of him yet.
But the experiment’s taught him the importance of memories and how important it is to remember. Even if no one else cares to… even if he doesn’t want to for many things – he must. Memories are important things. And in the end, memories are sometimes the only proof of existence. He shall not forget.
Goodbye, Uchiha Itachi, for now. Trafalgar Law will remember you for as long as he is able.
… for as long as he is here.]
For those who knew him, Uchiha Itachi has been returned home.
[The message is anonymous and untraceable – though there are people out there who will recognise his handwriting. He doesn’t really want to reply – he’s too drained. He’s still striving for emotional equilibrium – rage and bloodlust and pain surging repeatedly and then ebbing away to leave him spent and hollow. His powers are a choppy sea – unstable – and he needs to find his center again.
Bil’s in the village. Untouchable. He’s read the Malnosso’s post a hundred times, and all the conversations that he could access… gleaned what could be gleaned, drawn new conclusions, confirmed and discarded old ones, and made unsettling new projections. And these means for uncertain ends? He doesn’t care if he had the purest of intentions (he did not) or the best of reasons – this is not something to be forgiven. Or forgotten.
… this threatens to make a smoker of him yet.
But the experiment’s taught him the importance of memories and how important it is to remember. Even if no one else cares to… even if he doesn’t want to for many things – he must. Memories are important things. And in the end, memories are sometimes the only proof of existence. He shall not forget.
Goodbye, Uchiha Itachi, for now. Trafalgar Law will remember you for as long as he is able.
… for as long as he is here.]
[ voice | private ]
It's good news, for their sakes. Shikamaru had told her what Itachi did, who he was... and those are things Katara could never get passed. But she can't quite forget the little boy she first met him as. And Katara's heart's been stretched something painful for abandoned little boys recently.
...she hadn't known he'd had anyone close enough to him to notice, besides Shikamaru, and there's just no way he'd be making this announcement.
And she does take the time to make her very best filter - because she knows that asking after him could get her in trouble in more than one way.]
Are you sure?
[ voice | private ]
Something in him bleeds anew. He feels like he's been through a war, all the aching and exhaustion that suffuses his being, and fragmented memories of his alternate life digging into his psyche. Just pieces, most of that other Law has faded away, but occassionally he will get flashes of what was, or more accurately what might have been. A faceless woman singing (he loves her, oh he loves her), the clash of swords and snarling winged men and women (Third Party. He hates them), and a sunny day, with him lying in the grass, watching the clouds set in perfect blue while the laughter of children (his children) and their friends echo around him.
It hurts. But he will not run.]
Yes. He's gone.
[ voice | private ]
She wasn't expecting it to be him. She wasn't ready to talk to him.
Dad...
And she closes her eyes because it hurts. But she can't let herself pause too long, because that's not fair to him.]
Oh. That's... good to know, then.
[Awkward. Pause. His name is awkward and heavy on her tongue, but it needs to be said. She needs to walk in the way things really are.]
Trafalgar, I'm - I know that this was a really bad one. But we should probably talk. Soon.
[Because the longer they wait, the harder it will be, and the easier it will be to put it off. She's not asking for now. But. Soon.]
Re: [ voice | private ]
[Talk. He doesn't want to talk. It's still so close. He hasn't been able to examine things objectively.
But. Still. He has to.
He will not run.]
Yes. We need to. Soon.
[ voice | private ]
All right.
[She'll take what comfort she can in the fact that he agreed.]
Later, then. [A pause.] Take care.
[ voice | private ]
You too. Stay safe.